Chris Laverty

The Trophy - Poem by Chris Laverty

Enwrought around a cup this rustic sceneunfolds: a fisherman there plies his wirefor hearth and bread - nearby, two fox desireto feast on baskets rich with harvest glean, and furtive eye the barn with movements keen; two pale youths nearby stand with hearts on fire, friends vying for the woman both admire -her figure full as autumn, face serene.The cup itself is coveted by swains -a trophy won with songs in idle time -not food nor love, but praise might be their prize -undying hungers in creation's chains; seized out of time, no final bells will chimeupon these souls - while life flits past their eyes.